Page 1 of FWB

Kenny

“ W hat the fuck do you think you are doing?” I scream as I’m being hurled upon by open soda and beer cans. “You’re a crazy bitch. I’m getting cleaned up and then you’re never going to see me again!”

“Fine! I don’t need your ass anyways. You’ll regret leaving soon enough,” Jazmine shouts back, momentarily ceasing her firing of the cans.

“The only thing I regret is ever sticking my dick in you in the first place. You need professional help, Jazmine, and I’m not going to be the one to get it for you.

” I make my way to the bathroom to take a quick shower to get the beer off me.

I look and smell like I went swimming in a pool of it.

God forbid I get pulled over on my way home reeking of booze.

After tonight, the last thing I need is to deal with cops.

I hop in the shower and let the steaming water rush over me.

How do I get myself into these messes? I really need to vet my hookups better.

Jazmine wasn’t even a good lay. She was sloppy, and it felt wrong the whole time.

Whatever. The sooner I get washed up, the sooner I can get the fuck out of here and never have to deal with her crazy ass ever again.

As I get out of the shower and start drying off, it’s eerily quiet in Jazmine’s living room.

Did she leave? I pull on my black shirt and jeans.

They’re still damp with the various liquids thrown at me, but I try to use a washcloth with some soapy water to get the majority of the smell out, at least.

As soon as I open the bathroom door, I see her, waiting for me. I brush past her, but she grabs my arm. “You aren’t going anywhere,” she sneers.

“Like hell, I’m not.” But that’s when I get a good look at her for the first time and I see it—a massive purple bruise beginning to form on her left eye. “What the fuck happened to your eye?”

“You hit me.”

“Like hell I did!”

“Well, that’s what I told the cops while you were taking your shower. They’re on their way.”

“What the actual fuck, Jazmine? I never laid a hand on you.” And then I see the Vaseline in her other hand. “Did you hit yourself with that jar to make it look like I abused you? That’s seriously fucked up! You’re never going to get away with this shit.”

“We’ll see about that,” she slurs.

I go outside for a cigarette, and not five minutes later, I see the red and blue lights— two sets of them. Great. Just what I need today.

Two officers, male and female, exit the first vehicle, and a second male cop follows from the other car.

I can tell immediately that the female cop is no-nonsense when it comes to situations like potential domestic violence.

She is shorter than my five-ten, medium build.

I can tell she has some muscles under her uniform from all the days she puts in at the gym in an attempt to prove herself to her colleagues and fellow officers simply because she was a woman.

I can also tell the types of the two male officers.

The solo officer is clearly ex-military, with a short, buzzed haircut and tattoo-covered muscles out the wazoo.

He towers over me. The apparent partner of the female officer has the appearance of a seasoned veteran.

He is slightly taller than me, maybe six feet, and has the countenance of a grandpa. He nods my direction as they approach.

“Good evening, officers. I apologize for you having to make a trip all the way out here. There’s just been a big misunderstanding.”

“We’ll be the judge of that,” says the female officer, whose name tag reads LOPEZ.

Okay, so that’s how this is going to play out—guilty until proven innocent. Got it.

At that moment, Jazmine makes her grand entrance. “Officers, thank god you’re here! This man hit me in the face! Look,” she exclaims as she gestures to her bruised eye that has gotten blacker since I came outside to smoke.

“All right, let’s just slow down for a minute. Ma’am, do you need immediate medical attention?“ the older male officer asks.

Upon closer inspection, I can see his badge reads JOHNSON.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well for now how about you tell me what happened,” Officer Johnson says.

“He hit me! That’s what happened!”

“No, I didn’t! I didn’t lay a hand on her, officer.

” I’m exasperated by tonight’s turn of events and the hellacious day I had at work.

I just wanted to drive over here, break things off, and go home.

But, no. This is what trying to be a decent guy and breaking things off in person gets me. I should have just sent a text.

The stoic beefcake scrutinizes me; his name is INGRAM. Officer Ingram says, “The lady is trying to tell us what happened, buddy. You’ll get your turn.”

Buddy? God, this is going to be a long night.

“We were arguing, and he was going crazy, throwing things. Then he just came up and punched me!“ Jazmine continues.

Officer Lopez reaches for her handcuffs. In another situation, I’d be thinking very alternative thoughts. However, right now I am really not in the mood to be locked in the back of a squad car for a crime I didn’t commit.

Thankfully, Officer Johnson seems to have a level head about him. He turns to me. “Son, what about you? What do you have to say about this?”

“I swear I didn’t lay a hand on her, let alone any woman.

We’ve been hooking up for a few weeks, but it wasn’t working out for me.

I came over here to break things off. That’s when she started throwing things, like open beer cans at me.

She finally stopped, and I stupidly decided to take a shower to wash off the smell because I didn’t want to deal with cops while smelling like beer if I got pulled over on my way home.

” I give them a pitiful smile that screams Oh, the irony!

“When I got out of the shower, I saw her with a blackened eye for the first time. She told me she called the cops on me for hitting her, and that’s when I noticed a jar of Vaseline in her hand. ”

“Vaseline?” Officer Ingram asks incredulously.

“Yeah, she hit herself in the face with it so hard that she gave herself a black eye.”

“That’s not true! He was the one throwing things and a full beer can hit me in the eye!” Jazmine interjects.

“Wait, a moment ago you said he came over and punched you. Now you’re saying he threw a beer can that caused the bruise. Which is it?” Officer Lopez asks.

Yes! Jazmine is so intoxicated she can’t even keep her own story straight. Maybe I will make it out of this relatively unscathed.

“Um, well … both! He was throwing things and then he hit me! It all just happened so fast!” Jazmine wails.

The officers glance at one another.

“Can you hold out your hands, sir?” Office Ingram requests.

Shit.

Instead of pulling out a set of handcuffs, he pulls out a high-powered flashlight and shines it directly at my hands.

Each officer takes a turn inspecting them for any signs of abuse.

Obviously, my hands are as dainty and clean as a daisy considering the line of work I’m in—and the fact that I don’t hit women.

“Tell us one more time exactly what happened, ma’am,” Officer Johnson says, this time without that grandfatherly leisure.

Jazmine is still impaired as she heaves in a huge, dramatic breath before rolling on with, “He came over to break up with me and I got mad! We started arguing, things were thrown, and he took a shower before he was gonna leave me! So I called the cops on him for hurting me!”

“But did he hurt you, miss? Or did you do this to yourself? And let me remind you, it’s illegal to give a false report to law enforcement,” Officer Lopez informs.

“Well, um. No, not exactly,” Jazmine stammers.

“So what you’re telling us is that you faked a domestic violence incident, used up emergency services for nothing, and tried to accuse this man of a crime he did not commit?” Officer Ingram inquires.

“I mean …”

“Alright, well all of those things are also crimes. So you’ll be coming with us tonight. It smells like you need a night to clean out anyway. Put your hands behind your back, please.”

“You can’t do this! I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the victim here. I need to see a doctor. I could be blind!”

“You should have thought about that before you hit yourself in the face. Now put your hands behind your back. This can go two ways, the easy way or the hard way. Take your pick.” Officer Ingram removes the handcuffs from his belt.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“The hard way it is, then.”

Officer Lopez wastes no time cornering Jazmine and forcing her hands behind her back. Jazmine’s struggle is weak; she knows she’s outnumbered.

While Officer Lopez is locking the handcuffs and Officer Ingram is reading Jazmine her Miranda Rights, Officer Johnson asks me if I would like to press separate charges.

Did I? I look at Jazmine as she is being loaded into the back of Ingram’s car. Honestly, I just want to be done with that woman forever. Pressing charges would mean I’d have to deal with her again.

“No. I think she’s got enough for tonight.”

“Fair enough. We would still like a statement regarding tonight’s events.”

“Sure.”

When I get home, I recount tonight’s debacle to my best friend, who happens to be my roommate.

“I told you, man. You never should have fucked her in the first place. She had those ‘crazy eyes’ about her in those pictures you showed me on her socials,” Sam says as we sit on the couch catching up on the Bruins game.

“I know, but tell my dick that. All I know is that I am done with women for a while.”

Sam snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

I take a sip of my whiskey. “I mean it. No more women for a while.” I need time to recharge and heal. The only way I’m going to do that is on my own. I don’t need anyone to “fix” me.